Titania of Troy

Chapter 6

It was perhaps midnight when Achilles requested her presence in his cabin onboard. His men obliged, naturally, by dragging her through the cargo hold of the trireme like a ragdoll. Titania tried her best to wriggle and fight against their grips. She shouted at them and kicked with her legs, but with three of them escorting her and her energy quite severely drained from the fight earlier, she didn't stand much chance.

They dumped her inside the room, quickly closing the door behind them. She heard a loud thump of footsteps and then silence. They were waiting outside. Titania rubbed at her sore wrists, unaware if the man that watched her.

"Daughter of Apollo, eh?" Achilles mused, causing Titania to whirl around faster than a wind spirit could fly, "I must say, Princess, I'm impressed." He was lounging on a chair, his feet perched on the table in front of him as he polished his sword in a way that Titania could only describe as lovingly. He stroked the curve of the blade as though it were a precious stone. Every brush was more like a caress, and his eyes never left its shining surface, not even to admire the feast that was laid on the table before him.

"Don't act so surprised," Titania supposed that she should perhaps be nicer to him and advocate for her safety like her teacher, Pandarus, had taught her to do. She realized too late that perhaps diplomacy was not her strong suit.

Achilles chuckled, to her surprise, "If any of my men ever spoke to me like you do, their heads would've been displayed as a mast head."

"Perhaps you over-estimate your leadership."

His eyes met hers for the first time, "Is that so?"

Faster than any warrior she'd ever seen, he stood from his chair and raised his blade to her neck. Titania shuffled back into the walls of the cabin, but Achilles simply stepped closer and rested the point on her collar bone. Titania tried to breath shallower. He wasn't pressing it into her skin, yet, but if she breathed too deep, she feared it would do so all its own. The bronze edge was wickedly sharp. Titania breathed shakily, "You're supposed to return me unharmed."

"That does not mean I have to accept your terrible behavior," he pressed it harder into her skin, "You seem to conveniently forget the fact that you are at my mercy, princess. I care not for Agamemnon's games, nor will he fight this war without me. I can do whatever I want to you." He seemed to ponder all his options, for his gaze turned dull and he twisted the blade thoughtfully in his hands as his head tilted sideways, "Perhaps I could tie you to the anchor and drop you to the bottom of the sea, and see if you survive as I pull you back up? Perhaps I could use you as a target for my bowman, or bait for fish."

Titania could not hold her tongue, "You would not dare anger the sun god."

Titania could've imagined it, but she saw that same look in his eyes again. They turned dark, just like they did on the deck when she'd been caught. They became pure shadow. In a single second they had change from crystal blue to the color of night and back. Achilles scoffed, "If the sun god loved you and his city so much, why doesn't he strike me down?" He pressed harder, and a single drop of blood decorated his blade, "Why does he not stop me from drawing his daughter's blood? The gods help those who help themselves, princess."

Unexpectedly, he withdrew his blade and gestured dramatically to the table and the feast. He pulled out a chair and gestured for her to sit before resuming his previous position with his legs on the table and his sword in his lap.

Titania gaped, "You threaten me, and then you offer me food?"

"Are you going to refuse it?"

Titania didn't dare. Her last meal had been a scrap piece of fish before the fight, and she had been raised royal. She couldn't go long without food. She collapsed into the wooden chair and immediately started grasping for the fresh fruits and olives, along with a hearty helping of bread and cheese. Achilles did not eat, but he watched her with curiosity. Titania watched him as well, not taking her eyes off of his bronze blade that had pierced her skin twice now. Subconsciously, her thoughts drifted to her collar bone and her ankle. Finally, after a large gulp of wine, she spoke hesitantly, "Why are you doing this?"